|
O
NE million years ago to-night, I climbed upon the moon; Upon the smooth and silver ball; my system well in tune To chord with all the things I loved, as well as all I saw; The finest trip one ever made, and done without a flaw. The air was rarefied it seems, and lent me strength to feel The zephyrs through a fairy touch, which I would not conceal, As I was on a sphere unknown, from which could plainly see The mountain peaks of this our earth, likewise the grand old sea. Some fleecy clouds at intervals came sleepily along And seemed to dance upon the air and almost sing a song, And I in rapture pondered on those mists of white and gray, But less pronounced than my good steed that bore me on my way. The stars at night their twinkle lent and as a searchlight fair Illumined all the worlds about, a picture painted rare, And as I gazed far off in space, I wondered how a Hand Could, as a clock, adjust them all to seconds as was planned. I could not halt to take a peep, but with my searchlight good, I focused on the real things, remembering what I could And jotting down on memory's scroll my whirling trip sublime, To dwell upon in after years, when people reckoned time. I saw the land; I saw the seas; I saw the polar glow Which we describe as northern lights, of which we little know; Still saw no man or living thing; no voice did I hear, Because mankind was then unknown, likewise the drum and ear. You ask me if a rainbow then I ever chanced to see, But must reply, I don't recall one's beaming up at me, As I was on the grand old moon, and that was well between The rider and the fancied bow, as none had then been seen. No birds were skimming through the air nor pealing forth a note To dance on sound-waves round the earth, from out a dainty throat; No butterflies in evidence, with wings of rarest hue To please the eye, to charm the heart, with morning's silver dew. I wondered if the silver zone that bore me swiftly through This unkept space, as strangely seemed, might give a better view To those who still were as the dust, but on some morning fair Might breathe the breath, a soul imbue; the Maker's Image bear; I pondered as I sped along on wonders then at hand, How all was wrought-the globe, the swaying sea, the land; The firmament so passing strange; the stars so bright and high, And e'en the sun round which we go and bid the night good-by. So many, many years ago, I scarce can now recall Much else, than how I hung upon the moon, lest I should fall, And you no doubt are at a loss and cannot figure out How I tobogganed down the moon and happened hereabout. Well, I will tell you how it came--one joyous Christmas night, I gorged myself with turkey, good plum-pudding too in sight, And when I sought my easy couch there seemed a heavy beam To rest upon my solar-plex', and this was but my dream. |